Fatal Push
by BegginAfterDark
Summary: When a teenager in battle school is found dead, all signals point to Graff.
1. Introduction

**Title:** Fatal Push  
><strong>Author:<strong> BegginAfterDark  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG:13  
><strong>Summary:<strong> When a teenager in battle school is found dead, all signals point to Graff.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Familiar names belong to their rightful owners. Unfamiliar names; all original characters belong to me.  
><strong>Feedback:<strong> Sure, I'm always hungry.  
><strong>Author's Note:<strong> My first and only experience with Ender's Game comes from the film that was recently released. I have not read the book.  
><strong>Beta:<strong> I lack a beta, but I do my best.

-  
><strong>Introduction<strong>

There was a flickering bulb dancing over his head, but he could not see it – the blindfold prevented him from being able to. A sour stench filled his nostrils causing a sea of sickness in his stomach, but the duck-tape across his mouth had prevented him the option to vomit. And the ropes that bind his hands and feet together prevented him from the assault of what he believed were from his enemies – and any way of finding comfort for his aching knees and his bruised body.

On the outside, the workers watched him from the large glass windows.

"Think he has had enough?" one questioned.

"No. I say when he's had enough."

"If you kill him, you'll have someone to answer to."

"Killing him won't give me the satisfaction." He withdrew a cigarette from his pack. "Besides, when the time comes for that he'll be already stripped of his titles and forgotten about." He smirked around the cancer stick. "Nobody'll care what becomes of him."

The last man at the end of the line chuckled. "Stupid bastard."

"Cut the lights." The man with the cigarette said. "He won't be doing any bedtime reading tonight."

The three men laughed in unison before one reached for the switch and left Graff alone in the dark.

He must have deserved what had come to him...


	2. Life on Seetron

**Chapter 1: Life on Seetron**

Seetron had once been a planet full of vegetation; a water source that had been naturally sanitized so anyone could drink from it.

That had been before the Dragos had found their way there. With their ability to float throughout space inside their jelly-pods, they were able to arrive in extremely large groups causing the taking over of Seetron to be as simple as the click of their heels.

Their only knowledge had been to take over. They had never understood the concept of adapting to their surroundings so it was divide and conquer or it was... divide and conquer.

Melrose was in power. A purple-caped monster with the power to appear and dissolve whenever needed. Always hiding in the shadows and with a neutralized computerized-like voice so no one could define the sex of their leader.

Then again sex wasn't all that important. There were areas designated for such actions between two or more Dragos, with several gas pipes that made the entire act of intercourse seem like a dream - or a nightmare. It felt real without being real - the lifeless creation of a process of life.

They were different, it was as simple as that.

* * *

><p>Bugs in the water. He had figured it out when he accidentally knocked the cup over. It was given to him on the cold, concrete floor an hour or so ago. After struggling against the corner walls and the floor, he was able to place himself on his knees which he used for walking.<p>

Now the infested water made a single stream in the direction of the uneven ground. The bugs were different in appearance, but they still reacted bug-like – slithering and hopping away into the shadows. At least they hadn't decided to pester him. The last thing he needed were bugs all over him, and his hands still tied behind his back.

Blood had caked over his eye. Holding it open was a job within itself. He wondered how much blood had pooled over his eye lid and if losing as much as he figured would mean he was closer to death than he had wanted to accept.

He hadn't done anything wrong, and yet he felt as if he had. Guilt had begun to creep up on him and strangle him. Was it revenge from two parents whose child failed battle school; unable to handle his iron fist.? Was it revenge from an alien race who had been crushed by the strength of his battle squads? There was nothing else he could think of.

He inhaled sharply, the dusty air collecting in his nose and irritating his throat. Coughing, he sagged forward and eased the pressure on his knees.

"Anderson..." His voice raspy. "...where the hell are you?"


End file.
